


Willpower

by Zatnikatel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-21
Updated: 2012-11-21
Packaged: 2017-11-19 05:38:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/569696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zatnikatel/pseuds/Zatnikatel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p><b>Spoilers</b> Season 8/8.07</p>
    </blockquote>





	Willpower

**Author's Note:**

> **Spoilers** Season 8/8.07

This, it's what they do, there aren't any questions.

This is what they do.

"Never let go of me again," Dean whispers as he unbuttons the shirt.

"I can't promise that," Cas tells him as he reaches to tug the tee off over Dean's head, Dean reaching up like he's begging, imploring for something, and he thinks that maybe he is.

There is a tingle of anger that skips through Dean, fizzy like soda pop, but he breathes through it. "What the fuck did you think I was going to do without you?" he reproaches as he fumbles the buckle of Cas's belt while Cas threads a hand through his arms so his long fingers can work open the buttons of Dean's jeans.

"I thought you would go on," Cas tells him. "You always do."

Bristling a little more, Dean says, "Don't make me any madder than I am," and Cas's eyes crinkle at the corners as he smiles.

"But you are beautiful when you're angry, Dean," he mocks as he unknots his tie.

The narrow strip of fabric leaves his hair a rumpled mess as he pulls it off over his head, and Dean steps in, finally chest-to-chest, warm skin smooth under his hands. He has always been gentle, but suddenly this isn't, suddenly this is teeth clashing and feverish. "I will save you," he insists. "Because you saved me."

He is spun around then, dizzy, head swimming, back against the wall and Cas rock hard against his aching dick, biting at Dean's lips, his jaw, hand sliding around to grip Dean's ass through his shorts and slam them together down there as he grinds in, and Dean chokes it out. "Fuck, I missed you. I wanted you, _want_ you."

He is all thumbs, pushing Cas's boxers down so he can get in there and wrap his fingers around Cas's dick as it springs out, eager and trickling already, and Cas dips his face down into Dean's shoulder, groaning, nip of blunt teeth at his collarbone as Dean jacks him. It's clumsy, no technique at all because Dean isn't really focusing on the minutiae so much as he's focusing on the closeness, the warmth, the need, the way Cas sounds, the way he starts to crumple against Dean, the way Dean's own blood swishes in his ears like seashell waves crashing on an imaginary shoreline.

"I got you," Dean whispers on the curve of Cas's ear. "I love you."

And Cas cries out low, and he's lifting Dean up, Dean falling down into the kiss, wrapping his legs around Cas's hips and braiding his fingers through Cas's hair as Cas carries him to the bed. He throws his arms out to the sides,  _crucifixion_ , as he lands on the mattress, and gives himself up to it, the sly tongue that kisses pledges down his chest, licks sigils around his nipples, the clever fingers Cas works into his mouth for Dean to lave and suck before they are gone and he feels them nudging against and inside him, as relentless as they are careful. The slide and drag of them is almost painful, and it's _real-real-real_ , when Dean never thought he would have this again, and he bears down into the discomfort, gasps out, "Fuck, yes. More. _Everything_."

Cas croons back at him, not real words but the meaning is clear, and his breath is cool on Dean's balls as he pulls and laps at the loose skin there with his lips. Dean hears a muffled grunt of satisfaction as Cas shifts, up and over Dean now, tongue licking in slick and agile and wet alongside his fingers, and _fuck_ , there it is, and Dean seizes up inside as a bolt of lightning lances its way out of him to the tip of his cock, feels every millimeter of unyielding bone firm inside him as he clenches around Cas's fingers. He thrusts up through the rush of excitement and lust, his hand flying up involuntarily to grip Cas's thigh, and Cas chuckles, rolls off and to the side, pulling Dean with him, smooth motion that ends in a vacuum of torrid, slippery heat as Cas swallows Dean down to the root, his teeth grazing the spine of Dean's dick and his fingers still diligent as they rub that spot again.

"Fuck." Dean barely gets it out through the wave of sensation as he short-circuits inside again, and he blinks hard, opens his eyes to see Cas's cock right there beside him, staring at him with its one eye, the tip bulging aggressively out of its turtleneck of tight-wrapped foreskin. Dean ignores the burn that's starting up inside him, braces himself on his elbow so he can reach, seals his lips around the head, fills his mouth with smooth, domed, thick flesh that oozes fluid onto his tongue. He slaps his tongue against the ridge, suckles hard and frantic, and he's giddy with desire, his brain gone hazy with the way Cas's thigh muscle twitches and trembles under his hand, the way Cas makes shallow thrusts into his mouth while his whimpers vibrate around Dean's own dick, the electric way Cas's fingertips keep brushing across that magic button deep inside Dean like they're beckoning, coaxing, spinning the frayed threads of Dean's love into this explosion of want and need that Dean can feel erupting _now_. And he can't resist, he has no control, he is quaking inside, and he pushes up against the back of Cas's palate as it rockets through him, his shout ripping out of him around Cas's dick so harshly it hurts his throat.

Spasms dance through Dean's groin as he falls back along to the creak of bedsprings, and Cas is there, kissing him so hard it might be painful, his cock rigid and damp at the crease of Dean's thigh. Dean pats a hand down to clasp it, pulls his leg up, positions Cas _there_. "I will save you," he says again, and he grits his teeth, forces himself to relax as Cas pushes in, instinctive, making desperate, soft noises as he covers Dean.

There is the flash-burn that stings and sears through Dean as he splits open around Cas, there is the throb that turns to a dull ache as Cas sheathes himself, and there is the punch-drunk _joy_ of the sob-turned-growl in his ear, Cas's fingers restless in Dean's hair as he sucks at the hinge of Dean's jaw. And there is the thick, sensuous friction of Cas's cock moving inside Dean as he clings onto it, greedy, doesn't want it leaving him empty like before.

Dean stutters out incoherent love, rocking his hips up as Cas pushes onto his hands, staring down at Dean, the blue of his eyes gone demon-black as he slams in. Dean rakes fingernails down Cas's back, sinks them into his butt and surrenders, arching up to meet every flex and pump, every smack of flesh against his thighs and balls, every battering-ram swat against his prostate, his dick swelling up again as sensation strobes though every synapse. He slides a hand between them to strip himself, and somewhere in the back of his mind, he's aware of the steady _thump-thump_ percussion of the bed-head against the motel room wall as Cas pounds into him, or maybe it's his jack-hammer heart, or Cas's, as the angel's eyes open wide and astonished and his rhythm turns erratic.

"Need you, need this," Dean gasps, familiar ripples flooding through his lower belly as his balls contract again and his cock spurts into the tangle of coarse hair where their bodies are joined.

He sees Cas's eyes roll back and his mouth open in a soundless cry, _Dean,_  and he pushes in hard and deep, his arms buckling as he collapses on Dean, his body jerking weakly as he empties out liquid heat that Dean can feel blistering inside him.

Dean wraps his arms around his friend, flops a leg over Cas's, and Cas shivers in his embrace, breath slowing only gradually, face smushed against Dean's shoulder. And Dean tells Cas again, words murmured out but resolute.

"I _will_ save you."

This, it's what they do, there aren't any questions.

This is what they do.


End file.
